


An Act of Jealousy

by leporidae



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Other, slight akamido if you squint hard enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuutoku and Rakuzan meet up at a training camp, and some old feelings of jealousy begin to stir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Act of Jealousy

_How was Midorima ever friends with a guy like this? Akashi made him vice-captain back when they were in middle school, didn’t he? Probably just to toy with him, to remind him that he was second best. And the way Akashi treated us when we lost, refusing Midorima’s handshake… I wish Midorima hadn’t been bothered, but I saw his face after it happened. He was so obsessed with winning against Akashi, that denial crushed him. And Akashi knew how badly it would affect him. He knows more than anyone how much power he has over Midorima. Over_ my _partner. Even when I try to tell him that what we have is stronger, he’s still fixated on being better than Akashi, I feel like he’s not even listening to me. It makes me want to throw up. I’m losing to a guy who makes Midorima hate himself, and I can’t do anything about it._

* * *

_Takao Kazunari is nothing but refuse. Worse than trash, gum stuck to the bottom of Shintarou’s shoe. I cannot believe he respects that buffoon, that he would change his fundamentally independent style of play for someone so classless. Does Kazunari have any talent, any intellect outside of basketball? No – he has no musical ability, no academic drive, nothing but an embarrassing sense of humor and the grin of an imbecile. I could not think of someone worse suited to be Shintarou’s companion. If someone does not stop this ridiculous farce, Shintarou will fall victim to a life of eternal idiocy._

* * *

It was the last thing Midorima had expected to see, an unfortunate event in what had been a long string of miseries. Of course, Cancers ranked twelfth that day, and his fortune up until this point only served to prove that fact.

Upon arriving at their training camp, Shuutoku almost immediately ran across Rakuzan High, there to train as well. It was such a jarring encounter that every member of their team had seemed to freeze at once, dropping their gazes and feeling the weight of their collective defeat on their shoulders. When asked why they were training in Tokyo rather than Kyoto, Akashi had simply replied, “Because I knew that _Shintarou_ and his team would be here, and that it might make our collective practice more interesting.” The accusing gazes of Midorima’s entire team had been trained on him then, but nothing had made Midorima’s flesh crawl more than the monstrous focus of Akashi’s heterochromatic eyes on him as he spoke his name.

They had played a practice match earlier that day, and lost. It was not just Midorima who seemed out of focus; the ball had been stolen an abnormal amount of times from Takao as well.  As the game went on, the point guard seemed to grow more and more frustrated, and in turn made a series of amateurish mistakes. Frankly, Midorima could not blame him for succumbing to his nerves, but he still found himself reprimanding his partner once the two teams had parted ways.

“Those passes during the match were not of the level I know you are capable of, Takao.” That statement alone was enough to make his friend’s eyes shine with anger, but the effect of his next comment was much graver. “If you continue allowing yourself to be distracted like that, I – _we_ – will never surpass Akashi.”

Takao’s fists had clenched at his sides, and his voice shook when he responded. “So you blame me for losing? How about during the Winter Cup, did you blame me then, too? If I had managed to get the ball to you without it being stolen, you would have been able to make all your shots, and you would have been able to show him your superiority, is that how it was? Am I getting in the way of your little _competition_ with _Sei-chan?_ ”

“Of course n– ”

“Maybe you should find a different partner,” he had hissed, and the venom in his voice had startled even Midorima. “Better yet, you should just transfer to Rakuzan and get Akashi to pass to you. I’m sure he’d be able to work with you just like I do, probably even better, since he’s _so good_ at everything.”

Midorima stared down at Takao helplessly. “I have never expressed a desire like that.”

“ _Good._ Keep those desires to yourself.” And Takao had stomped off before even giving Midorima a chance to utter a sound of protest.

Looking back, he probably should have protested, at least a little. 

* * *

It was pathetic, what Takao did. After leaving Midorima in a fit of rage, he had nearly collided with Akashi himself in the hallway. The point guards faced each other, their malice towards one another apparent in the ferocity of their gazes.

“Takao?” Midorima’s voice was coming from a distance. Apparently he was looking for him. Akashi had heard it, too, and his eyes flickered past Takao for a moment as if expecting Shuutoku’s ace to round the corner at any moment.

At that instant, both Takao and Akashi wordlessly understood that, while Midorima and Akashi had a rivalry in basketball, there was also a competition of a very different nature going on between Takao and Akashi.

And it was a competition Takao felt himself losing.

_He uses me to beat Akashi –_

_If Akashi was still around, he would never have agreed to be friends with me –_

_It’s Akashi he cares about, not me. I want to make him care about me. I want –_

“Takao – ?  Oh, there you are. About what I said before, I – I wanted to say, I’m sorr– ” 

* * *

 Midorima staggered backwards, crushed by the sudden force of an unbearable despair. The person to whom he had been about to apologize, and the person who had driven them to argue in the first place – they were wrapped around one another. Takao’s fingers, which had made so many trustworthy passes to Midorima during games, were laced through Akashi’s hair, pulling their faces together. And those lips that had teased him so many times, were – _no, I can’t even look…!_ He turned his gaze away, wishing fervently that the sight before him would vanish.

“ _Kazunari._ ” From what seemed like miles away, Midorima heard Akashi’s voice, purring into the ear of _his_ partner. Midorima felt his stomach flip, and dared to glance back at the impossible scene before him – but instantly regretted it. He could not see Takao’s face, but even from a distance he could see the spark of lust in Akashi’s eyes, the twitch of his delicate fingers as they wrapped themselves around Takao’s waist.

"Am I interrupting something...?" Midorima's voice cracked hoarsely. He found himself unable to look away from the disturbing reality in front of him.

The two point guards disentangled themselves from one another then, both breathing heavily. Takao's face was slightly bent and in shadow, so Midorima could not gauge his partner's emotional state. On the other hand, when Akashi turned to face him, Midorima felt his stomach flip at the smug intensity of the other’s smile. Slowly, deliberately, Akashi ran his tongue along his bottom lip, all the while never taking his mismatched eyes off Midorima. "Do not fret, _Shintarou_." A shiver ran down his spine at the velvety tone of the emperor's voice, so full of menace and seduction. "I am done here."

In one deft motion, Akashi's hand alighted on Takao's shoulder. Midorima opened his mouth to shout a desperate warning, but the sound died in his throat. Instead he watched helplessly as Takao's knees suddenly buckled, and Midorima could see the moment of panic flashing in his friend’s silver eyes before his body crumpled to the ground with a whimper.

" _Akashi_ ," Midorima spat venomously, his deep voice shaking with rage and confusion. And hurt.

In a few graceful steps, Rakuzan's captain had closed the distance between them and was peering up at Midorima with eyes void of emotion. "You saw him grab for me, did you not, Shintarou?" A brow quirked condescendingly at Midorima. "I merely indulged his crass desires for a moment, then reminded him of his place."

Midorima's eyes flickered back to where Takao crouched on the ground. His body was trembling, and his gaze was trailed on the ground, but he had not made to move. Yes, he had seen Takao make the first move, and it had been painful to watch. But even so, he could not forgive Akashi for turning Takao's spiteful action into a display of humiliation. "That is _not_ his place." His voice came out a low growl.

"Surely you cannot blame me for his pathetic grab for attention? He was clearly appealing to the basest of your emotions."

"And what emotion would that be?" The shooting guard pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, unsure of whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Jealousy, of course." Akashi's gaze did not falter. "For that matter, someone so prone to engage in ridiculous stunts like this one is hardly suitable to be your partner, Shintarou. I cannot stand to see one of the Generation of Miracles I worked so hard to lead to victory lowering himself in such a manner."

"And who is suitable to be my partner, then?" Midorima challenged, his taped fingers rustling as he clenched his hands into fists. "You?" Out of his periphery he could see Takao flinch, his head still bowed.

Akashi shrugged languidly. "Perhaps."

"Then allow me to disagree," Midorima replied, barely unable to contain the rage bubbling in his chest. "What you have become – well. Perhaps at one point, we could have been suitable as partners. But you and I have both changed.” His green eyes flickered briefly back to Takao, whose body was shaking. “I would never choose you over him. Especially after what you just did.”

Akashi’s eyes softened ever so slightly. Someone who did not know him would not have noticed, but Midorima did. It made him feel sad that the Akashi he had known so well, played shogi with and gotten along with, was so deeply buried that not even Akashi himself could find him, that he struggled to remember who he had been even after the crushing awakening of his loss against Seirin.

In that moment, though, he did seem to remember. “I apologize.” The words of regret were so foreign to the emperor that his expression clouded with confusion for a fraction of a second, before his usual stoic demeanor replaced it once again.

“I’m sorry, too,” Midorima replied quietly, unable to meet the other’s gaze. When he looked up, Akashi had walked back over to where Takao was still crouched. “Don’t –”

He cut himself off before the protest left his lips as he saw Akashi extend one hand to Takao. Akashi was not trying to condescend to him, or prove his superiority, but rather was offering to help Takao to his feet. And, as would be expected, the black haired boy was suspicious. His silver eyes flashed with an emotion Midorima could not discern, and his brow furrowed, but his hand stretched out and accepted Akashi’s gesture nonetheless. Without flourish, Akashi helped Takao to rise, and turned away. “I am in the way,” he said as he walked in the opposite direction, his words directed towards Midorima though his eyes were not. “Being an extra appendage in a fixed situation out of my control is not a position befitting of me, and I will take great care to never place myself in such a position ever again. Goodbye, Shintarou.” The emperor of Rakuzan rounded the corner, and was gone.

Midorima and Takao were left facing one another, feeling the weight of awkwardness settle between them. Takao’s cheeks were flushed deep red, and his normally piercing gaze wavered, darting everywhere but at Midorima. The ace of Shuutoku had never felt so utterly helpless. On the one hand, he wanted to reach out to Takao, to tell him it was okay and that they could move on from Takao’s transgression like it had never happened. But as he opened his mouth to do so, the searing image of Takao pulling his rival – his _enemy_ – in for a kiss bombarded his memories again. There was no way he could forgive something like that, at least not that soon.

It was Takao who was the first to speak. “I’ll see you later, Shin-chan,” he mumbled, in a voice so weak it was almost heartbreaking. With that feeble goodbye, he swiveled around on the soles of his feet and darted off in the other direction. Midorima, like before, did not stop him. Whether it was because he did not want to, or because he could not, he was not sure. All he knew was that talking to Takao, to his best friend, suddenly seemed like the scariest, riskiest course of action in the entire world.

* * *

Their dinner was strained.

None of their seniors wanted to mention it, but Takao could tell that all three of them felt extremely uncomfortable. Ootsubo, Kimura, and Miyaji were all making small talk with one another, but they were also pointedly avoiding looking at their first year duo. For once, Takao wished that Miayji would throw one of his typically melodramatic threats at them, or that Ootsubo would gently criticize them for the mistakes they had made during the practice match. But there was nothing from any of them, nothing to distract him from the unfathomable mistake he had made earlier, the unfathomable wrong he had done to his friend.

Shintarou Midorima’s emotions were extremely finicky. Takao knew that better than anyone, because he was Midorima’s closest – and arguably only – friend. His rude exterior only served to hide a perpetual unease and discomfort. The shooting guard found it impossible to assimilate normally into social situations, and relied on his harsh personality barrier and the strangeness of his astrological obsession to push others away, so that they would never discover the weakness and fear of alienation he harbored within himself. Takao knew all of this. Sure, he and Midorima had never explicitly discussed such insecurities, but Takao was nothing if not observant.  If he lingered by Midorima’s side as often as he did and still did not notice something like that about his friend, what sort of friend would he be?

For that matter, what sort of friend was he, anyway? Using the information he knew about Midorima’s insecurities, he had turned it against him. He had kissed the one person to which Midorima could never stand to lose, right in front of him, and just because he was feeling jealous of Akashi. Whatever he had been feeling before was nothing compared to what Midorima must be feeling now. Would he ever trust Takao again after such a stunt? Takao had not missed the hurt shining in his friend’s eyes after he had pulled away from Akashi.

And then, when Rakuzan’s captain had slammed him into the ground, all he could think to himself was that he had deserved it. Akashi had played along with his farce, but ultimately he had been the one to apologize, not Takao. He had been the better man, and helped Takao to his feet. He had even promised not to get in the way any longer. Seijuurou Akaski – the most arrogant, prideful young man Takao had ever met, the man who had threatened to gouge his own eyes out upon losing a basketball match – had conceded defeat.

Takao had not even apologized.

“I’m gonna turn in early.” He pushed his chair back from the table and gathered his dishes. “’Night.” His gaze never alighted on Midorima’s face, nor did Midorima respond to him.

“Goodnight, Takao,” Ootsubo replied cautiously. “Rest well for practice tomorrow.” It was clear there was more the captain wanted to ask him, but something about Takao’s dangerous aura must have prevented him from doing so.

“If your reflexes fall asleep like that again during a practice match, I’ll rip your limbs off,” Miyaji added, though the threat in his voice was not as convincing as usual.

Kimura nudged Miyaji in the side with his elbow. “Just take care of yourself,” he said, as if to translate for his friend.

“Mm. Will do.”

Still Midorima said nothing. 

* * *

 It was futile to believe he could escape Takao forever. Midorima had finished the remainder of his food even more deliberately than usual, then sat in the bath until it closed. And now, he was sitting on a bench in the hallway in nothing but a bath towel, stalling to return to the room he was inhabiting during the training camp.

The room he was sharing with Takao.

“Shintarou.” The voice made Midorima flinch, and he turned his eyes upward to see Akashi standing over him, gazing with almost disdain at his mostly naked body. Midorima almost smirked.

“…Akashi.” There was nothing he wanted to say to him. He did not want to rehash the events of earlier in any shape or form, but it seemed like Akashi was not giving him a choice on the matter. His intention to speak with Midorima was clear.

Quietly, Akashi sat down next to him, his intense eyes scanning Midorima’s body as if to determine any weaknesses. Then: “Your muscles are not well developed enough to ever get the best of me physically, Shintarou. If you seek to reclaim your throne, you ought to train harder.”

Midorima would have laughed, but he knew Akashi was incapable of making jokes. “I do hope you are still talking about basketball.”

A ghost of a smile flickered on Akashi’s lips. “I most certainly am talking about basketball. Even in a scenario in which you were engaged in a physical relationship with me, I would hardly allow you to get the better of me physically. Besides, I refuse to pursue someone who is already invested in something – _someone_ – else. I am not a man who wastes my time with such trivial matters.”

A faint blush dusted Midorima’s cheeks. “No need to be so blunt.”

“There is always a need to be blunt. You will learn nothing otherwise.” Akashi narrowed his eyes. “The same advice could apply to Kazunari, as well, you know.”

Midorima sighed. Even though they had parted ways to go to their respective schools almost a year ago, Akashi was still able to read him so well. It was as eerie and uncomfortable as ever, but in that moment he found he did not mind it. “Blunt in what way?”

“Telling him off.” Akashi stretched his hands in front of him idly. “If someone I _loved_ – ” the word sounded so foreign on Akashi’s lips – “so blatantly disrespected me, they would never get off so easily, without bearing witness to the full extent of my wrath.”

“I’m not going to tell Takao off.” Midorima frowned.

Akashi shrugged and stood up. “But you do not deny my other claim.”

Midorima could feel his heart pounding dangerously. “Maybe I don’t.”

The emperor began to walk off in the other direction, something almost akin to a chuckle escaping his lips. “You are a fool, Shintarou. But it is almost admirable, in a way. Perhaps someday soon we could play shogi again.”

Midorima nodded slowly, although he knew Akashi was not looking at him. “Perhaps.”

“And put some clothes on.” Akashi turned around then, the traces of a smile still present on his face. “Unless you intend to mend your precarious position with Takao in a… more _drastic_ manner than merely speaking with him?”

Midorima nearly choked. “Please do not try to be funny, Akashi. It does not suit you.”

“Very well.” Akashi resumed his exit. “Goodnight, Shintarou.”

“Goodnight, Akashi.” 

* * *

 Takao was half asleep when he heard the door to the room creak open. A shard of light from the hallway engulfed his face, and he squinted, rolling over in an attempt to return to the comfort of darkness.

_Takao, I need to talk to you._

The voice sounded like it was coming from miles away. Takao was not sure if he was dreaming it or not, and he let out a moan of protest. After nearly escaping his misery through the sweet escape of sleep, he hardly wanted to be woken up again, not now. Not with this.

“Takao, I need to talk to you.”

There it was again. Blearily, Takao sat up, pushing his bangs away from his forehead and rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. “Mm?” He glanced up to see Midorima kneeling by the side of his bed, his face so close that Takao’s own cheeks prickled with the warmth of it.

And he was clad in nothing but a towel. While Takao had seen Midorima undressing a countless number of times – and lamented frequently at how impressive his partner’s abs were, musculature that he himself did not possess – he could hardly take him seriously during a weighted conversation if he had to stare at his mostly-naked body in a towel skirt. “Put some clothes on!” Takao yelped, grabbing the pillow from underneath his head and throwing it at Midorima’s face.

Midorima made a muffled sound of protest, and stood up rapidly. “S-sorry. I’ll – fine. Give me a moment.”

Takao rolled back over, listening to the rustling of fabric as Midorima shrugged out of the towel and into his pajamas. A moment later, he felt a shove against his shoulder as Midorima crouched back down next to him. “Don’t you dare fall back asleep.”

“I was never asleep in the first place,” Takao whined, flipping on his side to face Midorima again. The taller male had taken off his glasses in preparation for sleep, and he was staring at Takao with a bleary and mildly unfocused expression as a result. Takao found his teammate’s terrible vision rather endearing, and he snorted with laughter, clasping his hands across his mouth to avoid further transgressions.

Midorima’s lips pulled into a scowl. “I can’t tell, but I think you’re smirking at me. Stop that.”

Something about that simple exchange seemed to cut through some of the tension that had been building between them. Even so, Takao was not sure how to proceed. After all, he had done something dreadfully immature and hurtful. That was hardly something he expected Midorima to bounce back from so quickly. “Shin-chan, I understand if you’re really mad at me, but – ”

“I forgive you.”

“Eh?”

Midorima leaned in closer, grasping Takao’s chin in his hand and lifting his face to lock eyes with him. “I. Forgive. You.”

The point guard felt his stomach flip with the impossibility of the statement. “You – you do?”

“What you did was unacceptable,” Midorima growled, increasing the pressure on Takao’s chin with his fingers. “Betraying me like that. Doing the one thing you knew would set me off. I should stop trusting you completely, honestly.”

“I agree,” Takao murmured quietly, feeling his cheeks warm with shame. “I – ”

“But I won’t.” Midorima let go of his face. “At first, I was confused why you would do something so – so awful. I thought I had been wrong about you from the start… but, I realized it wasn’t about that. You – you were trying to make me jealous, were you not?”

Takao could barely hear his own voice as whispered a reply. “Yeah.”

A long silence transpired between them. Takao could hear a cricket chirping outside somewhere, and the room suddenly felt stuffy. And then, he could hear Midorima’s voice, softly. “I don’t feel that way about Akashi.”

Takao felt his heartbeat begin to flutter ever so slightly faster. “I never said I thought you did, or that I even cared.”

“But you _did_ think I did, and you did care.” Midorima’s tone grew impatient.

“Did not.”

“ _Liar._ ”

It was almost cute, watching Midorima get frustrated like this. “All right, I cared. But…” He swallowed. “Why are you telling me that, huh? Even if you felt that way, it’s not like you really have to justify it to me.”

“I refuse to have that misunderstanding,” Midorima said curtly, clamping his mouth shut after making the statement.

Takao pursed his lips. “Huh?”

A pained expression flitted across Midorima’s face. “Priority – Akashi is hardly my priority.” It was clear he was struggling to articulate his feelings. “My feelings towards Akashi – they are feelings of rivalry, feelings of the regret of past friendship, and nothing more than that. So I would appreciate if you did not compare your relationship with me to that. You two are different people. Akashi, like all of us, was broken during middle school. You, and the rest of Shuutoku, have helped me move forward in a way he never could. That is all.” It was clear that Midorima was mildly mortified by his own emotional outburst, so he moved away from Takao and lay in the futon beside him, turning his back towards his companion. Takao thought he was done speaking, when he mumbled one more statement: “Promise me you will refrain from doing… _that_ ever again.”

Takao pondered his request for a moment. “Can I ask you something, Shin-chan?”

“Fine,” came the gruff response after a moment.

“ _Were_ you jealous? When I kissed Akashi, you mean.” A choking sound emitted from the figure lying down. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

Takao did a double take. He had not been expecting Midorima to be so blunt. “You were? Jealous of…?”

Several minutes passed without a word from Midorima, and Takao rolled over into a sleeping position, convinced that Midorima had either fallen asleep or was refusing to answer altogether. Then, just as he closed his eyes, he heard the response, mumbled so delicately he could hardly recognize Midorima’s voice.

“Of Akashi.”

Takao could not tell if the warmth he was feeling was from having buried himself in his sheets, or something else. Something internal, that was suddenly glowing. “That’s all I wanted to know. In that case, I’ll never do that – what I did – again.”

“Good.” The sleepy voice of the quickly drifting Midorima almost did not reach Takao for its faintness. “At least, not with Akashi.”

Takao buried his face into the pillow to hide his growing grin, although he knew that Midorima was not even facing him to see it. “It’s a promise.” Though there was no response from the shooting guard, whose breaths had steadied to those of a complacent slumber, Takao knew his partner had heard his words.

“See you tomorrow, Shin-chan.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically just an experimental drabble, especially in regards to the concept. Because of both that and the fact that the point of view switches around a bit, I feel like it ended up a bit choppy, but I don't want to mess with it anymore, so I'm going to leave it the way it is. I also haven't posted any finished writing or drabbles online for about four years, so that's adding to my uncertainty. But I hope that it worked out all right nonetheless, and I'll try to keep my future drabbles a bit less bizarre.
> 
> If there are any typos, please point them out to me and I'll fix them. I'm proofreading my own writing and I might end up missing some stuff no matter how hard I try to catch everything.
> 
> Also, I'm terrible with titles.


End file.
